The Fiuri Realms (Shioni of Sheba Book 5) (13 page)

T
He Halls OF
Endless Light had been cleared of all but Lord Tazaka’s inner circle of nobles and the leaders of his armed forces. A vast sphere of hovering Vermilion Dragonflies, loaded with what had to be every magician in Green Central, greeted the overawed group of Fiuri as they entered the hall and walked up over the walkway to the central dais where Tazaka awaited them, with Queen Azurelle.

Azurelle had never looked more beautiful, Shioni thought, fighting off a treacherous tear. Her stunning Fiuri gown was the colour of bright African skies, a blue so bright it almost hurt the eye, a hue so vibrant that it seemed it could never be shadowed by a cloud. Upon her head she wore the diamond crown, and her azure hair cascaded over her shoulder in a waterfall of perfect ringlets. At her throat and wrists she wore a delicate frosting of diamonds, the likes of which would have made a Princess of Sheba turned green with envy.

Be strong, friend, she urged Azurelle silently. Shioni would rescue her from Tazaka’s plot if it took the last breath of her lungs.

They approached the throne.

“Now, as the sun Altair shades our world in the colours of night, we gather to deliver judgement,” Lord Tazaka announced. Shioni wondered how the tunnel-bound Fiuri knew whether it was day or night up on the surface. Could their magicians tell? “My Queen shall speak.”

Regally, Azurelle regarded them, each in turn. She showed not even a flicker of recognition when she gazed at Shioni. She said, “Viridelle, Iridelle and Chardal of Cave Seventeen, and Shionelle the White Fiuri, the Green Lords have delivered their verdict. They find you guilty of high treason against the realm.”

Beside Shioni, Chardal gasped. Viri only stiffened her shoulders, while Iridelle gazed on impassively, her fists clenched against the chains that bound her. None of them spoke.

“Your crimes include plotting a rebellion against Green Central, spreading false rumours about the rule and reign of Lord Tazaka, and the attempted assassination of Lord Tazaka and his Queen by means of wild magic. Reluctantly and with great sorrow at your misdeeds, the Lords therefore sentence you to be exiled from the Fiuri Realms for the remainder of your natural lives, to a place where by your best efforts, you may yet survive, and further, the Lords decree that you must never return to the Fiuri Realms except on pain of death.”

As she spoke, Lord Tazaka made a signal for their chains to be released. Once Azurelle finished speaking, he said, “I am not without mercy. Therefore I return to you your weapons and a week of supplies. May they serve to sustain you in times to come.”

Tazaka could sound so sincere and even kind, Shioni thought, snake in the grass that he was. Where would he send them?

Once the foursome were provisioned and armed, Lord Tazaka raised his hands. At his signal, great streams of fire lanced down from his magicians all around, filling him with light and power, as though he stood amidst a storm and absorbed lightning bolts into his body.

In a voice that shook the Halls of Endless Light, Tazaka decreed, “According to the judgement of the Green Lords, I banish you to the realm from whence you came.”

Earth, Shioni wondered? Surely not.

His arms lowered. With a gathering motion, Tazaka surrounded them with a whirlwind of his powerful green magic. “I banish you to the place of wild magic!”

Viridelle screamed.

A mocking whisper seemed to follow Shioni into the whirling, hungry green darkness: ‘How richly Kalcha will reward me for your death, Shioni of Sheba. Enjoy the surface of Fiuriel.’

The White Fiuri spiralled away into the black, flying faster even than her imagination could comprehend. She woke just a second later, it seemed, although some time must have passed. She found herself lying facedown on a patch of crimson gravel. Shioni’s eye cracked open to behold a wondrous sunset, far more orange-golden than she had ever seen in her life, splashed across a barren moonscape of rock, gilding a few small clouds near the horizon. Above the horizon, her gaze rose to behold the awesome, endless curvature of a planet which filled fully three quarters of the evening sky. Parts of it glowed with iridescent veils of colour like sunlight sparkling off a dragonfly’s wings as it sped over a still pool. Other parts were as black as oil, oozing beneath her regard as though moving, alive, in a way that made her soul shiver. The light and the dark seemed to ebb and flow, as if battling for dominance.

“Crysturiel?” she croaked.

Shioni groaned. What a headache she had! She felt as though she had been swatted by Kalcha’s hand all over again. Wiping off the gravel stuck to her cheek, she sat up. Her wounded leg throbbed as if another arrow had pierced her calf muscle.

Coughing and hacking in the too-thin, cool air, Shioni looked around her. Chardal, Iridelle, both lying sprawled nearby … where was Viri? Her friends stirred as she watched. She knew the moment they realised where they were; the stark terror, the sudden inward scrunching up of their bodies as though by curling up into a foetal ball, they could keep safe. She scuttled over to them.

“Char, Iri … keep calm, alright? You’ll be fine.”

“Y-Y-You’ve no i-idea!” stuttered Chardal.

“I do,” she soothed. “Iri, don’t cry. I grew up under skies like this–well, not quite like this, but under open skies. You won’t die.”

Making a low, keening noise as though someone she loved had died, Iri rocked back and forth, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Chardal was in no better shape. Shivering so hard he was in danger of biting off his own tongue, the scholar stared at Shioni with eyes so wide, she could see her own pale, worried expression doubled up in them.

Suddenly, he screamed, “We’re going to die! I don’t want to die! Not like this. No, no, no, make it go away, Shionelle.” He grabbed her collar and managed to crack their heads together. “Ooh, that kills!” he groaned.

“The pain of life.” Shioni gritted her teeth. “Char, calm down–”

“You calm down! It’s fine for you, you … you surface dweller.” He clutched his chest. “My heart’s going to explode and all you have to say is–”

“Calm down. Honestly, you’re behaving like a–
yeow!
Get off me!”

The normally timid scholar was doing a fine impression of a rabid leopard, Shioni decided, thrusting her legs to kick him off over her head. Landing, Char curled up into a ball again. Well, at least that kept him from trying to beat her head into a pulp. The sounds of sobbing behind a nearby rock led her to Viri, head down and mewling into a crack between the rocks.

Shioni comforted her, and brought her back to the others.

Gazing at the deepening mauve of twilight, still lightened by Crysturiel’s glow in the sky, although the planet had already moved noticeably further below the horizon–Shioni tried to ignore how nearby that horizon seemed–she searched for inspiration. How could she help her friends? Of course they were scared. Well, Viri was being brave now, touching antennae with Iri, but they both shook like leaves in a breeze, their eyes huge as they gazed at Shioni.

Softly, she said, “Look, the stars are coming out. You won’t want to miss this. Iri, Viri, the night sky is just like the roof of an enormous cave. Do you remember? I told you before. Well, you’re in for a treat, because you’re going to see that tonight. As Fiuriel turns, it’s like sleep time for your plants. It’ll grow dark, but not so dark you can’t see anything.”

The three Green Fiuri gathered to the sound of her voice, making Shioni feel oddly like Mama Nomuula mustering them beneath her wing. She told them stories about her life in the Simien Mountains, of riding the King’s horse Thunder beneath the silvery moon, and how she had run with the Sheban warriors as she trained. How strange that the Fiuri knew nothing of storms and seasons and sunrises, she thought. Night fell as she spoke. Fiuriel turned, and the sky filled with such a glory of stars, even Shioni felt breathless. The stars covered the sky in thick strands and milky bands like platters seen side-on. She recognised not a single constellation, but led her three companions in a game of making up names for stars.

Then, they drew cloths out of their packs, presumably meant for drying oneself off after bathing, and slept beneath the stars. Shioni slept poorly, because Viri and Iri kept nestling against her from either side. Char yelled several times in his sleep and once woke up because Viri kicked him accidentally in the head.

But when Shioni stirred at sunrise, it was to see a further surprise. The moon Turion’s rising was a fake sunrise, its white furnace glow spreading across their barren surrounds, before the rosy rays of the sun made their appearance. By then, she had three fellow-admirers for the first sunrise of their lives, and what a beauty it was–fiery, fierce and heart-warming. Well, which Human had ever seen a sunrise from another planet? Should she feel privileged? And thank Tazaka for kicking her out to enjoy it? Shioni chuckled to herself.

“What’s so funny?” asked Viri.

“I was just imagining thanking Tazaka for sending us up here to appreciate this sunrise.”

Chardal gulped, “You’re mad! As mad as only a four-winged Tazaka-attacking quasi-Fiuri Human monster can be.”

Viri punched his arm gently. “As mad as a scholar who calls that a sentence? Pass the nectar, Shioni. Iri’s hungry.”

“Shouldn’t we ration our nectar until we find more food?” asked Shioni.

“Trust me, you don’t want a hungry Iridelle near you,” said the Green Hunter. “So, mad person who dwells in such places–”

“The surface?”

Viri wagged her antennae at Shioni. “Yes, this barren, lifeless, flowerless, tunnel-less, starry paradise in which you’ve landed us.”

“Don’t blame Shioni. You chose this,” said Char, who already had his notebook out and was chewing on a pen. “Do you think we’ll find a river? What about rain? Are those clouds? What do you think that turquoise rock is? Why haven’t we been torn to shreds by wild magic yet? Anyone want to watch me force this notebook up Tazaka’s nose? Sideways?”

Shioni’s throat wobbled as she swallowed away a lump of pride. Her friends were truly brave, and funny. But Chardal was right. She did feel responsible for landing them in a place the Fiuri regarded as a burning, volcanic hell. As a Fiuri, she stood barely four inches tall in real life. So if they ran into any trouble, she could just fly away! Neat. Viri’s unspoken question did make her think, however–where could they find food? And shelter? And eventually, sneak back into the Fiuri Realms to save Azurelle and the rest of the Greens?

So many questions! What form did wild magic take? An undersized White Fiuri like her, or something else? Regardless, they had an entire planet to search and plenty of time on their hands, or at their collective wingtips. Shioni sighed.

Viridelle immediately clutched her arm, her eyes rolling wildly. “What? What is it? Trouble? Where?”

A smile broke through her annoyance. Right. Someone had to teach these little Fiuri the courage of Humans. Getting angry with them was pointless. Rubbing antennae gently with Viri, Shioni said, “You know what we need most of all?”

“What?” asked Viri.

“What we need more than hammock flowers and all the nectar in Cave Seventeen?”

“What? Tell us,” her friends begged.

“More than wings, antennae and–”

“
What?
”

Iri growled fondly, “You little white pest, I’ll beat a purple colour into you in the flip of a wingtip if you don’t answer!”

Shioni chuckled, “I could’ve sworn I saw a valiant Green Fiuri Hunter around here somewhere, one who could smell pollen and moisture on a breeze from a thousand caverns away, the beat of whose wings scatters Vermilion Dragonflies into the depthless abyss, and the flash of whose mighty sword sends ten thousand veteran Yellow Fiuri soldiers screaming back into the chrysalis crying for their larva-mothers …”

Viridelle punched her so hard on the shoulder that Shioni spun around three times in the air before Iri’s large hand pulled her back down again.

“Sorry,” said Viri, contrite. “I forget my–
ouch!
You flying Glue-Slap plant.” She rubbed her own arm. “I forget how hard you can punch, you … can you teach me to do that? Please, Shioni?”

Chardal was laughing so hard he snorted nectar out of his nose.

Shioni pointed at the red mark Viri had left on her arm. “You’ll pay for that when we wrestle–stop laughing, Iri, you overgrown Stink-Flower.”

Shortly after dawn, four Fiuri set out across the gravelly hills of Fiuriel to find their future.

A
FTER SiX DAYS
of flying across rolling turquoise hills which periodically poked out of a horizon-spanning plain of crimson gravel, Viridelle pointed out a mountain range on the horizon. She made a celebratory aerial somersault, crying, “My first mountains!”

Shioni narrowed her eyes. “And, I believe, our first aerial predators.”

“That glint must mean water,” said Iri, pointing.

Char jotted a note. “Good work, team. Where there’s water, there should be plants and animal life. Nothing like this blasted wasteland–I can’t make any sense of it. Nothing grows out here, not even lichens. Even the most barren tunnels show some tiny signs of life.”

“Yet, I sense magic,” said Shioni.

“Tiny Fiuri, big trouble,” Viridelle said to Shioni, illustrating with her hands. “Good thing we rationed our supplies, by my wings. It’ll still take us days to fly to the mountains.”

“Days?” said Iri. “Shioni, why did you sound worried about those little dots?”

Viridelle smiled at her sister. “Iri, petal, you know how things seem smaller the further away you are?”

“Er … so we’re getting smaller?”

“No, but they’ll be getting bigger. Much bigger,” said the Green Hunter, showing rather more patience than she usually did with Iri’s mix-ups, Shioni thought.

The White Fiuri scanned the terrain around them. There were endless, conical hills, much like the anthills near the Takazze River where she had grown up with Princess Annakiya. Then, her eye fixed on the Spinward horizon. Uh-oh. A line of deep purple clouds billowed over the horizon there, not a normal colour for clouds, but the midnight-dark battlements and their towering summits were warning enough.

“We’re in for a storm,” she told the others.

“A storm? Great!” enthused Chardal. “I’ll take notes, and we’ll … um. Shioni, why’re you shaking your antennae like that?”

“Storms are a bit like that Cave-Crawler’s attack, Char. Trust me. We need to find shelter. Fast.”

Oddly, as the squall developed, Shioni began to notice a strange quality in the dark band of rain that swept before it, like a veil sweeping over the ground. There was a silvery sheen she had never seen in rain before. Magic? Or poison? Either way, she did not want to be caught in the open when they found out.

“This is fun!” Iri shouted, playing in the rising wind.

Viri clucked crossly at her twin. “Come on, help us find a cave.”

She did not want to alarm them, but Shioni suspected the wind would grow much stronger–how powerful, Fiuriel itself only knew, but there was nothing out on this plain to stop a storm from raging as it pleased. If they became trapped in a blast of crimson grit and stone, it would shred their Fiuri wings, surely? On cue, the rising wind buffered Iridelle, and forked lightning rippled across the storm front. Thunder rumbled like a Cave-Crawler battering a new tunnel.

“Oh, pollens and nectars,” wailed Iridelle, losing her nerve. “Viri, quick! I’ll look over here.”

The foursome sped before the storm, spreading out to quarter more of the ground. Shioni scanned the nearest mounds with increasing desperation. There had to be a place to hide. And how come those turquoise piles were so regular, anyways? The storm loomed behind them, growing with monstrous intent and speed. Unnaturally fast? Shioni hated the feeling in her antennae–if only she knew what it meant! The Fiuri fled, searching for shelter.

Suddenly, she spotted a dark crack between the rocks. “Over here!”

Viri whistled over at top speed. “Wait, Shionelle! Wait … listen, we’ve no idea what’s inside. Let a Hunter check it first.”

“Oh.” She had almost stuck her little Fiuri nose into more trouble.

Viridelle, with Iri on her shoulder, slipped inside the narrow cleft on the lower, Spinward side of a turquoise mound. Shioni looked up. The rock pile was at least fifty times her height, a great jumbled heap apparently pushed up by a mole the size of a volcano. As she looked about, the first drops of moisture struck her cheek.

Then, the wind’s keening rose to a shriek, and unseen hands pummelled them.

“Unholy wards!” yelped Chardal, crashing into Shioni. They tumbled to the ground.

“Quick, take my hand,” said Shioni. But the wind flung grit into their eyes, blinding them instantly. Char threw up a bubble of magic, which the wind beat brutally. “Come on!”

Strive as they might, the two Fiuri could not make any progress. They’d been blown just a few wing-lengths from the crack, but the furious wind fought them to a standstill. Yelling, Chardal tried to push his magic further, but the bubble suddenly fizzed and disintegrated.

“Got you!”

“Iridelle!” Shioni cried gladly. She was splattered with a green substance Shioni would rather not ask about, but the powerful Fiuri took her friends in hand and trudged back to the cave entrance, growling and gritting her teeth as she bent almost double beneath the wind. She had never been more grateful for Iri’s strength.

Suddenly, the rock closed over their heads, cutting off the worst of the storm.

Shioni sneezed as she dusted her shorts a little too vigorously. “Phew. Thanks, Iri. What happened, Char?”

He shook his antennae unhappily. “Something wrecked my magic. This is one unhappy scholar.”

“Aw,” cooed Viri. “Who’s an unhappy scholar?”

Chardal’s colour mottled to pink, purple and red. He muttered, “Who’s a bloodthirsty hunter standing over her kill?”

“Some variety of cave spider,” said the Green Hunter, indicating the bent-legged mess at her feet. Shioni tried not to think of how its fangs were as long as her arm. “Thankfully, they’re solitary–mostly. They’re also carnivores, so we can expect to find other animals nearby.”

As they spoke, the rain lashed in. Of one accord, the four Fiuri turned to peer out of the crack as a mauve-grey curtain descended. In seconds, the cave grew dark and only shouts could be heard above the din. Thunder boomed, shaking their little cave, while the ground trembled beneath the pounding of water from the skies.

Chardal leaped into Shioni’s arms. “Help!”

“It’s just a storm, Char,” she shouted. “A pretty good one, though.”

“What did you say?” Strobe lightning flashed upon Char’s pale, frightened face.

Shioni pushed him away. “Go hug Viri! Better yet, get us some nectar. I’m hungry and I sense we’re in for a bit of a wait.” Three very round pairs of eyes stared at her. “It’s just a bit of wind and rain,” she protested. “Storms don’t bite.”

The wind howled like a demented monster outside, but Char, despite his audibly chattering teeth, wove his hands into a protective ward which he placed over the cave’s entrance. With the storm’s fury muted, Shioni’s three companions straightened up with sheepish grins.

Viri chirped, “There. Now you’re a happy scholar! And here’s your reward.”

Chardal made a weak attempt to escape, but the Hunter would not be denied. Throwing her arms around his neck, she dropped a fine smooch on his cheek.

“Ew,” said Iri.

Shioni said, “Pass the nectar, Iri. I’m starving.”

They passed the remainder of the afternoon swapping stories and playing silly games to keep up their spirits. But, as Mama Nomuula would have said, they were in a fine pickle. Shioni could not help feeling responsible for her friends’ fate. Why had they followed her? They were sweet, noble and foolish, but the best friends a lost Human girl or a White Fiuri could ask for. And what about the wild magic that was supposed to tear Fiuri apart on the surface …

Oh!

That was an odd sound. Music. Sweet, chiming music, as if someone played a tune through the storm–which was impossible–but the notes carried with clarion sweetness right into the cave. Shioni saw Iridelle’s hand freeze in the motion of pouring nectar into her mouth. It overflowed and spilled down her brawny chest. Opposite, Chardal’s notebook dropped from his nerveless hand. And Viridelle, who had been sharpening her Hunter knives, paused in the middle of her story about a Violet Rasper Slug she had once tackled in Cave Seventeen.

“Iri?” Shioni righted the gourd. “Hey … Char? What’s the matter? Viridelle?”

They did not move a muscle.

Fear squirmed in her belly like an icy eel. “Er … what are you doing? Viri, wake up.” Shioni slapped her friend’s cheek, which ordinarily would have earned her a faster and harder slap in return before one could say, ‘Four fabulous Fiuri.’ “Char, come on, this isn’t funny …”

Shioni’s voice trailed off as the music approached the cave entrance. Yes, there was something alive out there, and it had just turned her friends into statues. She scrambled to her feet. Tiny stars prickled over Chardal’s magical ward. The music teased her, beguiling her senses with the ease of a tender lullaby … it was so pretty, if she just listened for a minute … “No!” Shioni pinched her own arm, hard. “Now just you wait a–”

Her voice cut off as the ward vanished. One moment the magical shield was there, the next it popped with a sound like the soap bubbles made when she used to scrub pots in Castle Hiwot’s kitchens with the other slave-girls. The lights danced in the entryway. Outside, she caught glimpses of more powerful, multi-coloured strands of light, twinkling and twisting in ropes like a girl’s long hair waving in the breeze, changing shape faster than her eye could follow, coming together and breaking apart with a titter which reminded her of crazed laughter, scraping across the ground … expanding toward her now, teasing, scenting what lay within the cave.

Predatory. Craving. The lights throbbed, slithering and flitting about, making her wing-muscles cramp painfully. Shioni knew it coveted her Fiuri friends, that much was as clear as a shard of crystal.

Calling, “Go away! Leave us alone!” Shioni raised her little dagger. But her hand shook. “Leave my friends alone!”

Bright colours … hungry … little magic things … sweet.
She did not hear words so much as sense the emotions of whatever was out there–creature or magic, she did not know, but she feared it.
Come … feed us … we’ve waited so long …

Viri stood up and walked past Shioni.

“No!” She clutched her friend’s arm.

What happened then almost made Shioni throw up. The striking patterns on Viridelle’s arms and legs began to writhe, stretching and fluctuating as if preparing to slough off her body. The eerie lights slunk closer, beckoning her with their most mesmerising songs, lapping greedily at her magic … and Iri’s patterns, too! Stark terror fused Shioni’s feet to the stone. Then, before she could think, she chopped the back of Viri’s neck with the hard edge of her hand, felling her.

“No! Char, no!” She smashed him down, too. “Iri, please …” Sobbing, she tried to knock Iridelle out as well, but the big Fiuri was too strong. When Shioni darted around to stand in her way, Iri simply walked over her, stumbling and cracking her knee against Shioni’s jaw. Iri moved out into the narrow crack where the ravenous, pulsating lights waited to suck up her magic, to strip her patterns away!

Was this what had happened to her? No!

Shioni leaped onto Iri’s back. The big Fiuri stared slack-jawed at the lights, entranced. With a wail of despair, she strangled Iri as she had been taught by Captain Tariku of the Sheban Elite Warriors. Her friend’s cheek made a meaty smack on the stone.

She screamed, “You freaking … leave my friends alone! Get out!” Rising, Shioni stalked ahead of Iridelle, making a banishing motion with her hands. “You can’t have their magic!”

The lights shuddered, racing up the walls, all around Shioni now, the music suddenly changed from hypnotic to hateful, aware and alive and so ruthless and cold-blooded, it made the little White Fiuri shrink back in fear. She would not abandon her friends! If they died, it would all be her fault, but how could she stop this unseen force from trying to cleanse them of all magic?

Defiance … strange thing … never before,
she sensed. The creature was confused–it was wild magic! The truth burned in her mind. This had to be the wild magic, the way it changed and seethed, animate and repulsive, caring nothing for the lives it wanted to consume!

The song of wild magic rose to a deafening pitch.
Destroy!

Lightning flashed in the cave! Pain bit Shioni’s left shoulder. With a howl, a sizzling of flesh and a blast of light, she flew backward across the cave, crashing into the wall opposite. The smoky-sweet smell of her own flesh filled her nostrils. Yet the pain helped her to see clearly. Shioni, screaming with a demented rage all of her own, kicked off the rock. Soaring over the prone bodies of her friends, she attacked the wild magic in ways she could not begin to understand–shouting in rage, burning, tearing from within herself the power which had so confounded Chardal before.

The wild magic reared in the face of her assault. It lashed and thrashed, stormed and writhed, but Shioni did not relent. She flew into the storm’s teeth. She drove the wild magic away. The strange lights turned on each other in multiple whirlwinds. There came a snapping and snarling sound as if a dozen dogs chased their own tails in circles, before suddenly, all of the wild magic lights winked out.

Blackness folded around Shioni. No. She had to return to her friends …

The storm picked her up and tossed her into the air like a kite.